


Whatever you need

by TuppingLiberty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - A/B/O, BAMF Stiles, But not Sterek, Come Eating, Consensual Somnophilia, Everyone Is Alive, Happy Ending, Implied Mpreg, Kidnapping, Knotting, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Nipple Play, Pack Feels, Past Abuse, Rimming, Safeword Use, Stiles has a dark and abusive past of some kind that is undefined, Tender Sex, kind of, so this tag, very quickly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: Derek wakes to find that Stiles has gone into heat overnight, and helps his mate out.That's it. Purely PWP and some feelings thrown in. ;)Chapters 2 and beyond: the PWP that grew some plot, but then also some more porn.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 80
Kudos: 874





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have had absolutely no desire to write anything for like three weeks - must be the whole constant state of stress and anxiety thing everyone's dealing with right now - so when this idea came to me as a flash of smut, I decided to needed to capture it. If you've been waiting for other stuff from me, apologies. I wish I could say I've been doing something else productive and great but... nope. Not even much knitting. I guess the good news is that my wrist is feeling a lot better!

At first, Derek thinks it’s the sweltering heat that woke him. His skin feels sweaty, and he goes to kick the blanket off his furnace feet only to find that Stiles already kicked it away sometime in the night. He blinks more awake, and realizes it’s Stiles wrapping all of his limbs around Derek like an octopus might that caused him both to wake up and become overheated. Because Stiles’ skin is practically on fire as he shivers and presses closer to Derek, like he can somehow force himself under Derek’s skin and become a part of him if he tries hard enough. 

Derek curses under his breath, pushing Stiles’ sweaty bangs back and away from his face and kissing his temple. Stiles moans a little, shifting so that Derek can feel Stiles’ hard cock pressing against his body. 

They’ve yet to find a heat suppressant that doesn’t fuck up Stiles’ ADHD and anxiety meds, and both Stiles and his doctor had agreed those are more important. But it does mean Stiles has a rather unpredictable cycle. He’d been feeling perfectly fine hours ago, if maybe a little sleepier than normal as they’d cuddled up together, watching Schitt’s Creek. 

As Stiles shivers in his arms and moans again, pressing his face into the crook of Derek’s neck where his scent is the most comforting, Derek smooths his hand down Stiles’ back. His pajama bottoms are soaked, but it takes Derek a minute to untangle Stiles’ legs before he can get them off to help his mate feel more comfortable. 

He stops, though, when Stiles freezes against him, his eyes wide open and staring past Derek, seeing something invisible in his half-sleep, heat-fueled dream. 

“It’s okay, baby,” Derek soothes, keeping his hands safely away from areas that might trigger Stiles further. “It’s me. Just me. Happy to do whatever you need.” 

He can feel the moment Stiles comes back to awareness. He softens against Derek’s body, and buries his face in Derek’s neck again. “Sorry,” he whispers, barely audible against Derek’s skin. 

“No need for apologies.” Tentatively, he strokes over Stiles’ bare back. “We said we’d try, and we did. Now we know. No sleepy-sex.” He feels Stiles’ lips lift a little against his skin, feels the small puff of air as Stiles laughs a little. 

“Maybe someday.” 

“Maybe. Whatever you need.” Derek presses a kiss to Stiles’ forehead again. 

“I need your knot like fucking yesterday,” Stiles grumbles, his cock pressing insistently against Derek. “Please, Alpha-” 

Derek pulls back, making Stiles complain again, but he determines Stiles’ eyes are clear, except for the heat-fever. He takes one second to feel incredibly humbled that, after all he’s been through, Stiles trusts  _ him _ to get him through his heats - trusts anyone, Derek has a hard enough time believing - but for Stiles to choose him. To mark and mate him. Derek gives his own shiver, and presses Stiles gently back to the sheets. 

“I can do that.” 

The frozen moment earlier long forgotten, apparently, Stiles grins up at him, and Derek watches as he lets the heat take over. Lets Derek take over, knowing Derek is going to take care of him. 

Derek can’t help it - he has to take Stiles’ lips. The taste - the feeling - of Stiles’ submission makes him feel drunk, giddy. Stiles goes all pliant beneath him, his hands reaching out and grabbing at the sheets. Stiles tastes like his scent, all orange blossoms and vanilla with an added musk that only Stiles can bring to the table, and Derek wants to drown himself in it. Moreover, he wants Stiles to be carried away. He savors the press of Stiles’ soft lips against his. Those lips that are so often quirked up in a sarcastic smile as he makes some cutting remark against someone that Derek tends to agree with, even if he can’t say it as the pack’s Alpha. 

Smoothing his hand over Stiles skin, he lingers on Stiles’ hip, pulling one of Stiles’ legs over his own to grant him access. It’s easy to slip around and sink two fingers directly into Stiles’ heat. He swallows Stiles’ moan and follows Stiles’ movements as he arches his hips against Derek in pleasure. Stiles’ hole is burning, soaking wet and loose, trying to pull at his fingers. There’s no doubt Stiles is ready for his knot. 

Still, he can’t help but tease the omega, pressing and twisting his fingers in until they slide over Stiles’ prostate. Stiles tears his lips from Derek’s and groans, loud enough for the rest of the pack to hear as he comes all over Derek’s stomach - just the first of many, tonight, Derek knows. 

“Der,  _ please,” _ Stiles hiccups, still shuddering through his orgasm as Derek continues to press against his prostate. 

“How do you want it?” Derek asks, wondering if Stiles is too far gone to care.

But the orgasm seems to have cleared his head a little, because he pushes away from Derek and rolls over onto his knees, arching his hips up, his perfect ass presenting for Derek, his hole dripping and red and ready.  _ Fuck. _

“Fuck,” he mumbles aloud, moving to kneel between Stiles’ legs. Stiles rests his head on his arms and tilts it sideways, and Derek can see his wicked grin. Gods, he loves this man. 

Sliding into Stiles’ wet heat is like sliding home. Warmth envelops Derek’s cock, and he shuts his eyes tight against rutting into Stiles right then and there. He’s not an animal, and he’ll prove it every day if he needs to.

One of Stiles’ hands snakes back, pulling at Derek’s thigh. “I know you’re not an animal, but I still need you to fuck me like one like, right now, Der.” He makes his point by squeezing around Derek’s cock, and Derek groans, draping himself over Stiles’ back and finding leverage to thrust. 

Stiles is wild beneath him, meeting his thrusts and taking Derek deeper and deeper. His spine arches under Derek’s chest, and Derek finds one of his hands and tangles their fingers together as he presses it into the mattress. He grips one of the rungs of the headboard with the other, giving him the steadiness he needs to fuck his mate relentlessly. 

The connection is everything - lust and love and trust and  _ mates _ \- all rolled into one. It’s primal, and dirty, and perfect. There will be a time for slow and sweet, but not when the prerogative of millennia of evolution is driving them to mate, to consummate, to  _ breed. _

Sobbing into his arm, Stiles comes again, or maybe a third time, Derek’s not exactly sure. All Derek knows is that it makes Stiles squeeze down around his growing knot. It’s getting harder to push inside, his knot catching on Stiles’ rim in a way that makes Stiles shudder each time. It won’t be long now, and Derek speeds in anticipation, battering his knot over Stiles’ prostate before stretching his rim, and then repeating it over and over. 

When it finally catches, when Derek has to slow his hips or risk hurting Stiles, Derek bites down on Stiles’ mating mark again, refreshing it for everyone to know. This omega is his mate, for as long as he’ll have Derek. Hopefully forever, if Derek has any say. 

He shudders, feeling the muscles in Stiles’ walls flutter around his cock and knot. His vision goes white for a moment as he crests, coming deep in Stiles’ body, practically assuring the mating will be successful. The fall from the crest is long and pleasurable, too, his cock twitching and spurting more cum whenever Stiles squeezes around him. Stiles loves to milk his knot, keep driving him over the edge the same way Derek teases him. 

Euphoria still flowing through his body, Derek somehow has the presence of mind to shift them to their sides, cradling Stiles against himself, his arm wrapping around Stiles’ waist and resting on his slightly bulging stomach. 

They’re not actively trying, but they’re also not stopping anything. No birth control, no condoms. It might happen. The thought of Stiles round with their pups makes Derek close his eyes and nuzzle into Stiles’ sweaty hair. He feels a yearning he can’t voice as they lay there, sated. 

Stiles tips his head up to look at Derek’s face, try to meet his eyes, and Derek can’t help but peck a kiss on his cute upturned nose just to make it wrinkle. “Well, I  _ was _ going to shower you in love and compliments but now that you’ve done  _ that-”  _

That’s as far as Stiles gets before Derek grins, and the smile on his face makes Stiles give him one of his own. And then they’re kissing again, because what better way to pass the time waiting for the knot to come down? 

Derek can’t think of anything better, anyway. 


	2. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles plans a surprise to tell Derek some good news, but gets kidnapped in the preserve before he can. Luckily, Stiles is a BAMF. 
> 
> Aka... the pwp grew some plot. But not more porn, if that's what you're looking for. At least not right now. 
> 
> Chapter two tags: Mpreg, kidnapping, BAMF Stiles, pack feels, happy ending, slight hurt but mostly Stiles has everything under control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, this is total Id writing. What is this universe? No idea. What I know:  
> \--everyone is alive  
> \--werewolves are known  
> \--Stiles is a spark
> 
> Things I don't know:  
> \--Is Stiles a wolf or is this just an a/b/o verse? Unclear.  
> \--How much of what happened in the show happened in the story? Unclear.  
> \--What happened in Stiles' mysterious past? Unclear.

“Congratulations, Mr. Stilinski. You’re pregnant.” Deaton flips his chart closed and types some notes into Stiles’ file as if he hadn’t just given Stiles earth-changing news. 

Stiles rests a hand over his stomach, but he can’t feel anything there yet; Derek can’t even hear the heartbeat yet, or if he can, he hasn’t told Stiles about it. All at once, dual feelings of euphoria and anxiety wash through his system. They hadn’t been sure if...given Stiles’ history… but here they are. 

Well, here _he_ is. He’d come to the appointment alone, too nervous of getting Derek’s hopes up. Now he wishes he’d told Derek - even if it had been bad news, it would have been nice to take comfort in his mate’s arms. 

“You should probably be careful with magic for a little bit. Your everyday activities would be fine, but anything that causes you to become drained might have a negative effect on the fetus.” 

Stiles nods, then launches into a much longer discussion about his medications and making sure that none will harm the pup. The conversation kind of washes over Stiles in a blur and then he’s out in the sunshiney spring day, breathing in cherry blossoms. 

He decides to bask in that sun for a second as he pulls out his phone to make a call, sitting down on a park bench. “Hey, Der.”

Derek’s voice is a little fuzzy over the line but there’s a world of difference between his gruff ‘hello’ and how he speaks now. Stiles gives a little shiver of happiness at the pleasurable shift in Derek’s demeanor. “Hey. What’s up?” 

“I was thinking it’s been awhile since you and I made dinner together, just the two of us, no pack. What do you say to a little alone time tonight? I’ll arrange it with the rest if you pick up the groceries.” 

He can hear the smile in Derek’s voice. “And what would you like me to pick up?” 

Hand still resting on his flat stomach, Stiles lets baser wolf instincts overcome him. “Steak. A big one.” 

Stiles manages to convince the rest of the pack to give them the house for the evening; all it takes is a call to Scott, who’s great at getting the rest on board, and a handful of cash thrown in their direction for movie tickets and drinks after. Sadly, the threat of walking in on Derek and Stiles having sex no longer holds sway; apparently even bitten wolves eventually lose their sense of propriety. Scott told him once that it weirds him out to smell Derek so thoroughly _in_ Stiles, but also satisfies his wolf in a way he can’t explain. 

He took the whole day off work for the appointment, sure he’d be wanting to wallow a little after. Now it’s hours before Derek’ll be home, and the giddiness his news brings means he can’t sit still. He decides to take the restless energy out for a walk through the preserve, his imagination watching Derek and their pup play in the grass, or the three of them on a walk, baby strapped to Stiles’ back. Images he never could have come up with even two years ago. 

It’s his daydreams that distract him, and he curses under his breath when he realizes he’s let some of his hypervigilance go - he’s on pack territory, after all - and has walked right into a trap. The hair stands up on the back of his neck - he’s definitely surrounded. 

“You seem lost,” Stiles says, his voice ringing clear through the trees. “This is Hale territory.” 

The strangers materialize from between the trees, betas from the smell of them, which means their alpha is probably the one that’s trying to sneak up behind Stiles. 

“The Hale pack burned to death years ago. No harm in us taking a little looksie, is there, pretty little omega.” One of the betas - one with a missing front tooth - sneers at Stiles, stepping closer. 

“You picked a very bad day to be so very stupid, _beta.”_ It takes just a moment for Stiles to call up power within himself and tug urgently on all of the invisible strings that tie him together with his pack. In another second he feels responding tugs - “I’m on my way,” they tell him, “Hold on.” 

The beta he’d insulted growls, taking another threatening step forward. It’s almost enough to distract Stiles from the alpha creeping up behind him, but not quite. His brain does a billion calculations in the moment, though, and he decides the best thing - the safest thing right now, for him, for the pup - is to let himself get captured. 

After all, Stiles thinks as he lets his arms be drawn back in a hold by the alpha, as the toothless beta grins nastily at him, after all, they think they’re capturing a weak little omega. 

And nothing could be further from the truth. 

Of course, timing has never been his strong suit. The thing about the tethered connection he’s set up with his pack members is that it doesn’t account for how far _they_ have to travel to get to him. He’s not sure exactly how long he’ll need to vamp to keep these guys distracted. 

Gods, how he hates playing the poor whimpering little omega, though. 

“Please-” He adds a perfect little hitch in his voice when the alpha grabs him by the arm. It’ll bruise, but nothing he hasn’t felt before, and Derek’ll drain the pain anyway. “Please, alpha.” 

The alpha sneers, his grip getting tighter as he shoves Stiles toward a cave. Stiles knows this cave; he and Derek had spent their anniversary here, camping, and he can still smell their scent, just a little, because he knows what to smell for. 

The cave isn’t big enough for the four of them, so the alpha appoints Missing Tooth to keep an eye on Stiles. As they sit on the rough stone floor, Stiles contemplates if he should take Missing Tooth out right now, or wait for Derek to tear him apart. 

At this thought, it strikes him that he’s much more calm now than he had been just hours earlier, waiting in the doctor’s office all alone. Probably something he should bring up with his therapist, the fact that his personal life can give him so much anxiety but actual life-threatening situations don’t. 

_Not that this is life-threatening, little one,_ Stiles says mentally to the pup in his belly. _When you’re old enough, I’ll tell you all about the Alpha pack. Now_ they-

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of approaching wolves as his pack breaks into the clearing. He goes through his tethers one-by-one, and they’re all there for him, Derek of course, but Scott and Isaac and Erica and Boyd. The humans are farther away, of course. 

“Brad, get out here,” Stiles can hear the alpha say. Which gets Missing Tooth moving even as Stiles snorts over _Brad._ What a name. 

But it’s the moment he’s been waiting for. The invading pack lines up against his, everyone shifting, full or beta, whatever they’ve got. Stiles is momentarily surprised when their alpha goes full-shift too, a big, intimidating timber wolf baring his teeth at Derek. 

The thing is, Stiles knows how to hunt in a pack too. And just like how they caught him earlier, the interlopers don’t seem to realize that now that he has backup, he has them surrounded, too. 

Smiling just a little to himself, he lays one hand on the ground, calls to the power of his connection to this place, and sends a wave that blasts the three wolves away from the cave entrance and onto their backs and shocks them out of their shifts. By the time Stiles is straightening himself to stand outside the cave, the kidnappers have been completely subdued by his pack. Boyd’s already tying Missing Tooth - Brad - up. 

Fur brushes his leg for a moment before Derek’s there, unshifted and hugging Stiles to him. “You look...well,” he manages with a frown, smoothing Stiles’ hair back from his face and searching his eyes. 

“I’m fine. Just needed a distraction. I had to make sure I could get them all at once, because I didn’t want to hurt the pup overloading my magic. Though I am extremely grateful for the backup.” Every head in the clearing turns to him, making him ask defensively, “What?” 

Derek blinks, then looks deliberately down Stiles’ body with wonder, and that’s what finally clues Stiles in. 

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Stiles growls, kicking the subdued alpha in the shin. “I was planning a surprise!” 

“Is that why you wanted the house clear tonight?” Scott asks with a grin, already looking like a proud uncle. 

There’s a bunch of excited banter but Stiles is distracted by Derek cupping his face and meeting his eyes. “It’s true- we’re- you’re having a pup?” 

“You were right the first time,” Stiles murmurs, smiling at his mate. “We’re having a pup.” 

Struck speechless, Derek pulls Stiles into his embrace and brings him in for a long, deep kiss that says everything the stoic wolf can’t right now. It’s okay, because Stiles understands. He melts into the kiss with his mate, the father of his pup, not anxious at all anymore. 

And when the enemy alpha groans at them, well, it’s pretty easy to kick him in the shin again while he keeps on kissing Derek.


	3. Domestic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More domestic !mpreg Stiles and Alpha Derek. Featuring: Derek cooking and being barefoot, which like, how dare, Derek being a worry-wolf and Stiles being a fine piece of ass because you know it and he knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with those a/b/o sterek fics, huh TLib?  
> Yes, yes I am. 
> 
> Going to my happy place. This is apparently my happy place right now. Where everything is awesome and nothing hurts.

Derek hums a little under his breath as he mixes the sauce into the stir-fried veggies and chicken. Around him, the sounds of various pack members in the house, including his mate here somewhere with Scott, makes his wolf calm and satisfied. The fact that this is his normal, now, is something that still gob smacks him every once and awhile. 

“Wow. Barefoot and cooking me dinner, maybe you’re the one that should have the bump. It’d really complete this whole look for me.” 

Derek turns at the sound of Stiles’ voice, finding him leaning against the kitchen entrance, one hand resting over the slight roundness of his stomach. He’s wearing a pair of sweats, the waistband tucked under the bump. Stiles had mentioned he’d ordered some pregnancy pants for work but at home he’s still keeping it casual. Derek’s heart stirs as he realizes the pants are his, though. 

“You’re lucky I know you’re joking. A stranger might think you buy into that toxic Alpha bullshit.” Derek gives him a grin, holding out his arm and pressing a kiss to Stiles’ forehead when his mate snuggles into his embrace. 

He feels Stiles’ hand on his waist keenly; not that Stiles is ever able to touch him without his notice, but lately, everything about Stiles’ touch is electric. Even when he’s doing something completely innocent, like holding his mate around the waist, just Stiles being Stiles is enough, nowadays, to make lust start to stir and pool in Derek’s body. 

Part of it is Stiles’ smell; he’s ripe with his pregnancy now, his already perfect scent deeper and richer, and it’s unbearably attractive to Derek. Another part is the sweet way Stiles’ body is slowly changing to cradle their pup; Derek has a hard time keeping his hands off of Stiles’ stomach. Then there’s the possessiveness he feels seeing Stiles wear his clothing. His hands itch to slide under the band of the sweatpants and cup Stiles’ ass. 

He furrows his brow as he continues to listen to Stiles’ monologue about some research he’s been doing lately. He hates when his baser instincts get the better of him, and it’s not like Stiles asked to be groped just because he’s cuddling up against his Alpha. He doesn’t deserve to be pressured. 

“Sourwolf,” Stiles says with a short pinch to Derek’s hip that tells Derek it’s not the first time he’s tried to get Derek’s attention. So maybe he had been failing on the listening front, too. “What’s your deal? Your smell is all...funky.” 

Derek sighs, turning away after giving Stiles a quick squeeze for reassurance to pull down a stack of plates for the pack. The rice is done too, it just needs to be fluffed, but he doesn’t call the rest quite yet. Maybe now is better than never for this talk. 

He feels his cheeks grow hot as he turns back to his mate, holding his arms uncomfortably over his chest. “I- I’m having some toxic Alpha bullshit feelings myself, I guess,” he mumbles, unable to meet Stiles’ eyes. 

“What do you mean?” He can hear the frown in Stiles’ voice. 

“I mean I- when I see you like this, when I smell you, I…” 

“Der, you’re making me feel self-conscious here.” Stiles holds a hand over his stomach, glancing down, his frown deepening. 

“No, gods, no. The opposite, Stiles.” Derek steps back into Stiles’ space, placing his hand over Stiles’ on his bump. “Everything about you- fuck, you could be doing the most unattractive thing, I don’t know, like how you Dutch-ovened me last night-” Stiles snorts at the reminder. “And all I want to do is fuck you. Lay you back on the bed and eat you out until you’re not sure you can come anymore. Get inside you and become part of you, just a little. You’re so goddamn attractive to me right now, I’m going crazy, and I’m having a hard time dealing with it and respecting our boundaries.” 

He expects disapproval or at the very least, complaint. What he gets, though, is the growing scent of Stiles’ arousal blossoming around him and a short whimper from the omega’s lips. “Dude.” 

“I’m sorry, Stiles, I’ll- I don’t know. Spread scent blockers under my nose or something. I’ll figure it out.” 

Stiles pulls Derek’s hand around to cup his lower back, stepping in closer. “I’m glad you said something, because these are things we should talk about and not bottle up, right?” He leans in, brushing his lips over Derek’s softly, without a push for more. “Because my hormones have been through the roof and I haven’t been wanting to disturb you, and all this time we could have been scratching our mutual itch.” 

He presses his hard cock against Derek’s hip, showing he means it. 

Groaning, Derek cups Stiles’ cheek and brings him in for another kiss. “I just didn’t want to bother you.” 

Stiles meets his eyes. “I promise, if you’re bothering me, you’ll be the first to know. I expect the same from you.” 

The sternness in Stiles’ voice does _something_ to Derek and he growls, taking Stiles’ mouth again. They stay like that for a little bit, barely coming up for air, Stiles starting to grind his cock against Derek’s body, the scent of his slick soaking into the kitchen. 

It’s that thought that blinks Derek out of it for a moment. “Dinner,” he weakly protests.

“I had a big lunch. Besides, you mentioned something about eating something else.” He pulls Derek’s hand down, where his leaking hole has made a wet patch on his sweatpants. _Derek’s_ sweatpants. The thought that his omega is leaking in his pants makes Derek’s wolf want to howl and mount him right there. 

“Come on.” Stiles tugs at his hand as they make their way out of the kitchen. “Pack, food’s up. Get it while it’s hot and thank your Alpha later.” 

There’s a rustling as various members of the pack come from different rooms in the house, but Stiles manages to avoid all of them except Erica, who gives them a knowing smirk. He doesn’t even wait for Derek to close the door to the bedroom before he’s stripping out of his t-shirt and sweatpants, all pale skin and moles and delicious curves from the pup. He grins when Derek growls again. 

“Show me how much you want me, Der.” The teasing dare in Stiles’ voice sets everything off inside Derek, and he rids himself of his clothing as quickly as Stiles had. He’s not sure his cock, already leaking precum at the sight of his omega, could make the statement better. 

Like he promised, he pulls Stiles down to the bed, helping him get settled comfortably against the pillows as they trade kisses. He takes a moment to bite, just a little, at Stiles’ mate mark, just to feel the bond between them throb and pulse with vitality. Stiles moans underneath him, hand pressing to his shoulder to urge him gently on. 

He takes a moment, though, to nuzzle over Stiles’ bump, pressing his ear there to listen to the faint humming bird rhythm of the pup inside Stiles, overpowered by the stronger beat of Stiles’ heart. His world in two sounds. 

Spreading Stiles’ thighs apart practically engulfs him in Stiles’ rich, ripe scent. He wants to bury himself there, but Stiles’ cock is red and leaking and demanding attention, so he licks over the head and then takes Stiles in his mouth. Stiles groans, his long fingers slipping into Derek’s hair and pulling, delicious little pinpricks of pain that make Derek’s heart beat faster. Stiles’ hips are trying to stutter up, to fuck his mouth, but Derek pins him, making him take it at Derek’s pace. The moan/growl Stiles lets out makes Derek want to bury himself deep inside his mate. 

Stiles’ first orgasm comes easily this way, his cum hot in Derek’s mouth as Derek swallows around him. The fingers in his hair tighten, then loosen, Stiles’ hand falling to the bedspread, sated. 

Derek is far from done, though. He pops off of Stiles’ cock, wet and messy, and keeps going lower to where Stiles’ slick has been beckoning him this entire time. He eagerly dives in, mouthing over Stiles’ hole, thrusting his tongue inside, pressing Stiles’ slick-wet thighs farther apart. 

Derek’s always had a thing for eating Stiles out. The fact that his mate is with pup now only makes it all the better. He aims to do exactly as he planned: make Stiles come until he screams. He thrusts a finger in, next to his tongue, to find Stiles’ prostate. The second he does, Stiles jolts on the bed like a live wire, his fingers grabbing at Derek’s head again. Derek spares a glance up, making sure Stiles is still okay, and grins when he sees Stiles’ flush body, his arm flung over his eyes, his chest heaving. Reapplying himself, Derek gets lost in the rhythm of it all, licking inside Stiles’ body, rubbing his fingers over Stiles’ prostate to feel him shudder and shake. 

Some time later, when Stiles’ fingers have relaxed and tightened in his hair more times than Derek has kept track of, he feels a more urgent tug and Stiles’ soft voice calling, “Yellow.” 

Derek pulls off immediately, leaning back to check on Stiles. “What’s up?” 

Stiles’ face is beautifully flush, and he has a lazy smile on his face. “God, you’re a fucking mess. Come here.” Stiles pulls him up for a kiss, tasting his own slick, cleaning Derek up a little. “I’m fine, just a little sensitive. I’d like your knot in me before that pushes over to ‘too much’.” 

Derek’s wolf rumbles happily, and he nuzzles up against Stiles’ neck again. “Color now?” 

“Green, baby. Go ahead.” 

Sinking into Stiles makes Derek feel whole again. The first time they’d ever made love, Derek had wondered just what the hell he’d been doing with everyone else all those years. The difference a mate makes, he knows now. Stiles hitches his leg up around Derek’s waist and Derek positions them so that he won’t put unnecessary weight on Stiles’ stomach, and then they fall into that primal rhythm they know so well. 

Stiles is hot and tight around his cock, clenching around Derek as he thrusts steadily, the bulb of his knot starting to catch on Stiles’ rim. His mate is panting in his ear and babbling nonsense. Actually, knowing Stiles, it probably makes sense, but Derek’s well past comprehension. He buries his face in Stiles throat, letting it drown his shout as his knot catches and he starts coming. 

He shudders, euphoria washing through him in waves. After the first crashes through his system, he manages to roll them so that Stiles is lying on top of him, protected from his weight. From the way Stiles is humming, purring almost, and from the way his hole still clenches and grips around Derek’s cock, Derek can tell he’s floating off on some higher plane too. 

His mate doesn’t stir again until much later, when the knot has gone down and Derek is maneuvering him into his arms to take him to the shower. He grumbles against Derek’s neck, but Derek knows he’ll appreciate the clean up. Part way through gently soaping Stiles’ body, he senses Stiles’ alertness, and meets his eyes. 

“Anytime you want a repeat, buddy, I’m all yours,” Stiles says with a grin that makes Derek’s heart flip over in his chest. “Don’t hesitate to ask.” 

Everything settles in Derek’s body, and he returns Stiles’ smile. “I’ll remember that.” 

Just as they’re toweling off, Derek’s stomach takes the opportunity to grumble in hunger, and Stiles reaches out to pinch at his hip again. “I guess maybe I shouldn’t have made my big, strong, strapping Alpha skip dinner. You know, I wonder what the nutritional value of cum is, anyway? I mean I’ve always heard that it has a lot of protein, but how much? Are we talking protein shake here? We just burned a lot of calories, so can it be used for refueling-” 

Derek snorts, knowing a research tangent when he hears one. He’ll be lucky to get Stiles to fall asleep before he has the answer. He tosses some pajamas in Stiles’ direction. “Dinner first, laptop later, okay?” 

“Bossy, bossy.” Quickly pulling on the pants, Stiles reaches for the door, then pauses and laughs. “I guess someone thought we might appreciate dinner in bed.” 

Derek looks over Stiles’ shoulder. Sitting in the hallway in front of their door is a food tray with two plates of stir fry and rice. They even put a little dish of sriracha and teriyaki sauce on there, just like Stiles likes. “Thanks,” he calls out, just loud enough for the wolves to hear. 

_“No problem, dude. Just, uh, make sure that door is closed, yeah? It muffles the noise. Kind of,”_ comes Scott’s reply. 

Stiles grabs the tray and motions Derek back onto the bed - new sheets in place - all while laughing his ass off. 

Content, Derek’s wolf rumbles and sighs.


	4. Napping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek comes upon Stiles napping, and remembers how they first met. 
> 
> CW: Stiles implies some type of attack happening to him previously. Stiles also has a panic attack. 
> 
> Overall, some past angst sandwiched by schmoopy mpreg fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the beginning, Scott and Isaac may seem more malicious than I intend. They're teasing in that pack-family way.

“Dude, I think he’s drooling.”

Derek pauses at the back door of the pack house, listening to the whispered snickers Scott and Isaac think they’re getting away with. He doesn’t use his Alpha skills to sneak up on his packmates very often, but it comes in handy sometimes. This time, he manages to catch Scott and Isaac at the edge of the living room, looking at Scott’s phone and silently laughing. 

“Did you get a picture? Blackmail  _ forever.” _

Derek sees the image of his mate’s long limbs sprawled out on the couch, his head tucked in a pillow and indeed, drooling, another pillow tucked between his thighs to alleviate the aches Derek knows have been persisting in his hips recently. He’s wearing one of Derek’s henleys again, the material stretching over his belly. 

“Boys,” Derek whispers, his hands coming up to rest on Scott and Isaac’s necks in gentle reprimand. “Do you really think that’s the best idea, given what he can do to you?” 

Derek almost laughs himself when Scott jumps in shock, nearly dropping his phone if not for his werewolf-fast reflexes. “Derek! Uh-” He has the grace to look embarrassed, at least. 

“Seeing as neither of you will be carrying pups for the pack, maybe we should give Stiles a little bit of leeway on the teasing, hmm?” 

“Yes, Alpha,” they both mumble, scrambling off, making Derek shake his head and smile. He knows they don’t mean any harm. Their wolf brains are confused by the signals Stiles is sending them - the overwhelming urge to protect their Alpha’s mate not quite able to override their normal brotherly relationship with Stiles. 

He sets his bag down on the coffee table and sits lightly on the couch, checking his mate over more thoroughly. He doesn’t appear distressed, just tired, as pregnant people are wont to be. When Stiles is like this, the youth in his relaxed face reminds Derek most of when they first met. 

Not that Stiles had been nearly this calm that first night. 

“This is a bad idea, Scott,” Derek hears Scott’s companion whisper to his soon-to-be packmate from across the loft. “What’s he doing without a pack, or without much of one? I don’t trust this guy.” 

He’s an omega, Scott’s impertinent little friend. Well, actually, little is incorrect, isn’t it? Because he’s the same height as Scott, which makes him the same height as Derek, basically. Tall for an omega. He’s skinny, though, and he sort of hunches like he doesn’t want anyone else to know how tall he is. 

Scott’s hand runs down the omega’s arm before threading their fingers together. “And how am I going to keep us safe like this, huh?” Even from here, it’s easy to hear the wheeze in Scott’s breath. Not all human Alphas are born strong. 

His mate, then, Derek assumes. That’s good. Bringing a mated pair into the pack will only make it stronger. Even if the mate is giving Derek an extremely suspicious glare right now. 

“It’s easy enough to look up what happened to my pack in the town records,” Derek says with feigned nonchalance, as if he doesn’t still have the stink of smoke burned into his nostrils. 

The omega just keeps glaring, obviously not a fan of wolf hearing. “I’ll be doing that, then.” 

“Does that mean you don’t want the bite tonight, Scott?” 

Scott’s hand squeezes the omega’s, but then he drops it and takes a step toward Derek, putting himself in between the two of them. “I want it. I need- I need to ask you a question first, Alpha Hale. In private.” 

The omega looks murderous at being left behind, but Derek lets Scott take him into the loft’s kitchen area. “If the bite goes wrong, if it doesn’t take - I need you to promise me you’ll protect Stiles.” 

“What’s a Stiles?” Derek frowns, crossing his hands over his chest, hating pressure. 

Scott nods toward the living area, where the omega is pacing angrily. “If I die, I need to know that Stiles will be safe.” 

There’s enough desperation in Scott’s eyes that it tugs at his heart. “He’ll be pack. He’ll be well protected.” 

Scott looks into Derek’s eyes and gives one final, fierce nod. “Let’s do this, then.” 

“It’s best if we do it in the preserve. Newly bitten wolves can be a bit out of control.” 

“Lead the way.” 

Stiles keeps pace with them, and soon enough they’re joined by Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, the founding members - the only other members - of Derek’s fledgling pack. They’ll be able to help Scott with his transition, too. Especially since Derek is increasingly distracted by the distressed omega scent rolling off of Stiles in waves, the deeper into the preserve they go. 

It’s easy enough to give Scott the bite, though intimate, as the process always is. Like he can feel a little bit of his life force spark up inside his new packmate. He can tell immediately that the bite is successful; Scott's body hasn't rejected him. The transformation is always dramatic, but this time Derek is distracted by the almost overpowering scent Stiles is giving off. 

Derek curses internally when he looks at Stiles; the omega looks terrified, his eyes wide like scared prey, his hands shaking. When he sees Derek start to turn toward him, he turns tail and runs off into the preserve. 

“Watch Scott,” Derek bites over his shoulder at his packmates as he runs after Stiles. 

He can follow Stiles’ terrified scent easily, but he’s surprised by how fast Stiles has been able to get away. Just as Derek puts on a burst of speed, though, he’s clocked in the face with a large tree branch. The blow knocks him to the ground, and when he pushes back up to his feet and reorients himself, he sees Stiles huddled against a tree, holding the broken branch like a baseball bat. 

“Don’t,” Stiles bites out, his muscles tensing when Derek takes a step forward. 

Derek raises his hands, trying to placate the obviously traumatized omega. “It’s what he wanted, Stiles.” 

“What about what  _ I _ want, hmm? What about what I  _ need?” _

“Listen, I don’t want to get in the middle of relationship issues. He’s going to be okay, though he’d be really upset to know you ran off like this. But if that’s what you want to do, I’m not going to stop you. I’m not going to hold you here against your will.” 

Stiles snorts. “Like I’d believe that for a second.” 

Annoyed, Derek crosses his arms over his chest and leans against a tree opposite the omega. “All I ask is that you wait until after he’s transformed, maybe? I’d hate to break a promise to a packmate on his very first night here.” 

“What promise?” Stiles falters a little, the branch lowering. 

“When he pulled me aside an hour ago? He made me promise to protect you if he didn’t make it through the bite.” 

This seems to stun Stiles for a moment, at least until he turns and bashes the branch against the tree, screaming in frustration. He starts to pace their little clearing, talking to himself. “Stupid. So fucking stupid. Of  _ course _ that’s why he does it. Can’t protect little ol’ Stiles from the big bad nasties without becoming a big bad nasty-” 

“Hey-” 

Stiles’ head whips toward him, his hand stretching out, and all of a sudden Derek is hit with a wave of energy that feels about the same as getting smashed in the face with a branch. It knocks him back, but the tree he’d been leaning on catches him. Stiles looks down at his hand, dumbfounded. 

“Um.” He makes a fist, then does the same motion again, thankfully towards a tree that isn’t currently being occupied by Derek, but nothing happens. “Uh. That’s- uh. New.” 

“You’re a Spark,” Derek murmurs, rubbing over his face. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“It’s a textbook presentation, Stiles, and you know that. When a Spark gets stressed enough, their powers burst out of them. Just like that.” 

“I’m not a Spark, I can’t be a Spark, if I was a Spark, I would've been able to fight back when he- when he-” Stiles is somehow even paler, looking sick as he slowly sits and curls in around himself.

The patchwork of information Scott and Stiles have given him tonight make it hard to follow Stiles’ line of thinking. Or, Derek thinks, maybe he’s just trying to resist letting his mind take him there. 

Scott needed the bite to protect Stiles. Something bad obviously happened to Stiles, and Scott couldn’t protect his mate. Derek’s brain can fill in the blank with a dozen horrible things that could happen to make an omega fear a powerful Alpha. 

He settles on the forest floor, keeping a respectful distance from Stiles but unwilling to leave the omega alone like this. He’d made a promise to his new packmate, after all. He lets his senses tune in to the forest around them, making sure they’re safe. 

It’s almost as if Stiles refuses to acknowledge his tears until they’ve grown big enough to roll over his cheeks. “Why now? I could’ve protected myself… I could’ve saved Scott from the bite.” 

If his mom was alive, Derek would take the question to her. “I’m not sure. Maybe some wolf energy transferred through your mate bond that awakened it?” 

Stiles blinks at him, then, surprisingly, laughs. “Scott’s not my  _ mate, _ oh gods. Gross. He’s basically my brother.” 

Derek shrugs. “Familial bond, then. Maybe. Whatever the reason, it’s  _ not _ because of whatever happened before, okay? It’s not your fault. What’s important is that…” Derek takes a moment, wishing for his parents all the more as he searches for the right words. “What’s important is that you can protect yourself now, but so can Scott. And now both of you have a pack. We’ve got your back.” 

The only indication that he may have said the right thing is the slight loosening of the tension holding Stiles’ body taut. 

As good a place to start as any, Derek supposes, giving him a small smile. 

“Der?” 

Derek blinks, looking down at his mate, realizing he’d started running his hand through Stiles’ hair while he was reminiscing. He winces, pulling it away. “Sorry.” 

Stiles reaches out to catch Derek’s hand before it can go too far and pulls it in to brush a kiss over his knuckles. “You were zoned out, dude.” There’s an expectant question in Stiles’ tone. 

“Just thinking about...you. Us.” 

“Sap.” Stiles tries to readjust, kicking the pillow out from between his legs. “If I-” he grunts, scooting this way and that, before giving up with a look of defeat. “God, I’m too big for us to lay on the couch together, huh? I want Der-Bear cuddles.” 

“Now who’s the sap.” Smiling, Derek lifts Stiles into his arms easily, making Stiles laugh. 

He takes them outside and settles them on the double-wide lounge chair in the back yard facing the lake, where it’s cool enough even in the afternoon heat to cuddle in the shade. Stiles yawns, curling into him, nestling his face into Derek’s neck. “Growing pups is tiring,” he complains.

“I can only imagine. Good thing you’re such a badass.” Derek presses a kiss to Stiles’ forehead, rubbing over his back. 

“Tha’s right,” Stiles slurs tiredly. “Bad ass mother fucker Stiles. Total BAMF. Mmm.” 

In another second, Stiles is asleep again, and though he knows that Scott and Isaac are probably going to find them here and give them shit - actually, it’ll probably be Erica this time - Derek drifts easily to sleep with his warm mate in his arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again this came to me as just a small flash of inspiration - Stiles taking a nap on the couch. If you have little flashes of things you picture these guys doing, leave them in comments? Can't guarantee I'll write them but it might make me flash, too.


	5. Babymoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles take a pre-baby vacation to a cabin up in the mountains. Fluff and smut and nothing else. 
> 
> Thank you to LaBelleIzzy for the prompts. Like I said, this is super indulgent fic that mostly just happens around 'flashes' of ideas I have, so if you have any 'flashes' let me know, I might be able to write them up!

Despite being seven months pregnant with twins - Stiles thanks the gods that his human had overridden Derek’s wolf there, or he’d be having a much bigger litter - Stiles wakes with a burst of energy that’s rare these days. 

He’s on his side, his body pillow slid comfortably between his legs. He’d made Derek bring all of their bedding, because he’d wanted the smells and comforts of home even on what’s supposed to be vacation. Their so-called babymoon. Stiles had been skeptical when Erica had first suggested it: his nesting instincts are driving him crazy enough right now that he doesn’t even like to leave the house, after all. But Derek’s steady breathing behind him, telling him that he’s still peacefully asleep, makes it worth it for Stiles. 

And then one of the juniors stands directly on his bladder, and he has to slide out of bed, which of course wakes Derek. Puts Derek on high alert, actually, because it seems lately like every moment of Stiles’ pregnancy Derek is spending on high alert. 

“‘M’okay,” Stiles mumbles, rubbing over his face as he makes his way to the bathroom. The wooden plank floor of the cabin they’d rented is smooth but cold beneath his feet. 

When he comes back out, Derek’s already up and dressed, more’s the pity. Stiles leans against the door jamb, taking in the sight of his mate as he rubs over his swollen belly. Derek’s changed into a thick gray cable sweater, one that fits comfortably close to the curves of his finely-honed Alpha wolf body, and a pair of black jeans. Seven months ago, when there hadn’t been a basketball between them, or maybe a watermelon, Stiles would have slipped up to Derek, brushed around to put his hands in the back pockets of Derek’s jeans, and pull Derek close, squeezing his ass as they made out. 

The maneuver is impossible now, which sucks. Stiles has to go to Derek’s side to brush a kiss over his lips. 

“I thought maybe we could go for a walk done by the lake after breakfast, if you’re feeling up to it?” Derek suggests, lingering near Stiles’ mate mark on the side of his neck. 

Stiles can feel the pleasurable hormones sweep through him at the touch. “That sounds nice. We should test out that fire pit tonight and roast marshmallows for s’mores.” 

“Mhmm.” Derek’s lips twist in a small, private smile. 

“What?” 

“I seem to recall the last time we tried to make s’mores on a pack night, someone ended up taking the whole bag of chocolate for himself.” 

“Listen, I can’t be held responsible for what the twins make me do,” Stiles replies with mock offense. “Besides, if the pack really wanted s’mores, they could have taken the chocolate from me.” 

Derek bursts into laughter. “Like they’d take anything from their Alpha’s pregnant mate. Who’s a Spark who would kick their asses, no less.” 

“You snooze you lose, or something like that.” 

“Well, I just so happened to bring an extra bag of Reese's, one for you and one for the s’mores.” 

“My smart Alpha,” Stiles purrs, sliding his nose along the crook of Derek’s neck where his scent is the strongest. “Reese's for breakfast, then?” 

Derek laughs again, a happy sound that lifts Stiles’ heart to places he wasn’t sure it could ever go again. “Healthy breakfast, or Deaton’ll be hunting us both down.” 

“Boo.” Smiling, though, Stiles pulls away and starts stripping off his pajamas. He gives a little snort when Derek wolf-whistles before heading to the kitchen area of the cabin to get breakfast started. 

Sated by bacon and eggs, Stiles lets Derek lead him down the rocky path where he could easily lose his footing to the sandy shore encircling the mountain lake. Cabins dot the shoreline, but no one else is visible here, and another piece of Stiles relaxes. It reminds him of their home, the place they’ll be raising Junior A and Junior B, but it’s more peaceful without a billion other pack members running around or the myriad enemies they seem to combat weekly. 

They pause at the lake shore, Derek standing behind him, his arms coming around to rest on Stiles’ stomach. One of the Juniors occasionally kicks out, and Stiles can always feel Derek’s pause when they do, at this evidence of the life Stiles is growing inside him. 

Even in the mountains, the sun beats down on them, enough that when they decide to walk along the shore, Derek strips off his sweater and tosses it over a fence post. Stiles gives him a wolf-whistle of his own, just to see the pretty tinge of blush over Derek’s cheeks. Stiles is hot, himself, his feet a bit swollen, and the lake water looks terribly inviting. He considers his jeans, the socks and shoes he’s wearing, and then the water again. 

“What?” Derek asks, looking alert.

“Hmm?”

“You whimpered. Should we head back? I-” 

Stiles laughs, cutting Derek off. “It’s okay, worrywolf. I was just thinking about how if I was, I don’t know, seven months less pregnant, I’d take off my shoes and roll up my jeans and do a little wading, cool my feet off. Now I’m too big to reach them.” 

Derek looks around, then finds a bench nearby to lead Stiles to. “I’ll do it,” he says, pushing Stiles down even as he sinks to his knees. 

Derek Hale sinking to his knees with a look of intent on his face never fails to take Stiles’ breath, and now is no different. He’d gotten over the super-horniness a couple of weeks ago, but he still feels his hole start to slick. From the little grin that quickly graces Derek’s lips, he knows Derek can smell it, too 

But Derek’s all business down there, so even while watching his Alpha take off his shoes and socks as tenderly as he’d help put them on a couple of hours ago is making Stiles stir-crazy, Derek’s got him ready to go before either of them can do something that might get them arrested for public indecency. 

Besides, the water feels perfect on his over-hot feet, the sand gooshing between his toes as they walk down the beach hand-in-hand. 

“I’m surprised you picked this place. We live on a lake in an overgrown cabin. You could have chosen the beach, or a weekend in the city.” Derek squeezes his hand, always keeping one eye on the ground before them to make sure Stiles doesn’t trip. 

Stiles looks out over the water. Across the lake, now, a couple of boats are visible. Looks like they’re tubing, though it’s hard to tell from this far. “Maybe I just love home that much,” Stiles says with a grin, pulling Derek’s hand up for a kiss. 

It’s probably pregnancy hormones and nesting instincts, actually - Stiles doesn’t think he could stand to stay in a hotel right now with a billion foreign smells to contend with - but it’s nice to think that he’s settled, finally, into this life. 

_ “Der-” _ Stiles gasps, his fingers sliding through Derek’s dark hair and pulling. Between his legs, Derek groans, lapping at the copious amounts of slick Stiles has gushing from his hole. 

He’d been restless earlier, especially after Derek had noted his wet, sandy feet and decided that instead of putting Stiles’ socks and shoes back on, he’d just carry him back to the cabin, where he’d proceeded to wash Stiles’ feet off with warm water and give him an amazing foot massage. 

A foot massage that had devolved into eating Stiles out, because it seems like today is one of those days where Stiles’ hormones want everything all at once - and all from Derek. 

Stiles sucks in a breath on a whimper as Derek’s tongue swirls expertly around his rim. It’s not even just the feeling - although it’s certainly pleasurable - it’s the way Derek sounds so fucking into it, too, groaning against his hole and making encouraging noises when Stiles slicks up even more. Among a myriad of other things, Derek Hale is fucking  _ amazing _ at giving head. It’s really not fair, those looks, those cute stupid bunny teeth, that  _ dick, _ that tongue - 

_ Those fingers, _ Stiles thinks as Derek slides two straight into him beside his tongue, stroking directly over Stiles’ prostate and making him see stars. His thighs spasm around Derek’s head as he comes, producing more slick for Derek to take. 

It’s the second orgasm Derek’s given Stiles this afternoon - his legs had practically been shaking with lust when they’d gotten back to the cabin, aroused by Derek’s display of Alpha strength. Derek had touched his cock once and set him off. 

Moaning, Stiles melts back against the sheets, inhaling the smell of  _ them _ as he comes down. Derek’s still tongue-fucking him, and he knows from experience that Derek would happily stay there between his legs and wring several more orgasms out of him given the time. But Stiles’ hole is twitching, longing to be filled with more than just tongue and fingers.

“Der, baby, want you to fuck me, please, need it. Need you inside me.” Stiles is beyond caring just how wrecked he sounds, not when something akin to heat hormones are burning up inside him. “Please, Derek-” 

Derek’s beard is wet with slick when he pulls away, and Stiles’ thighs spasm again. If he hadn’t just come, the flushed, dazed, happy look on Derek’s face, the way his lips are swollen and wet, might make Stiles come all over again. Stiles whines at the look, rolling to his side and presenting his hole, as submissive as his Omega can be right now and still be comfortable. 

Derek kisses up his spine, then pulls the body pillow over so Stiles can be more comfortable still. The thoughtfulness of the gesture simultaneously makes Stiles want to cry and gush more slick - damn hormones. It aches,  _ aches, _ the emptiness inside him. He needs his mate  _ here, _ with him, together-

They both groan when Derek sinks all the way inside Stiles. Stiles feels bursts of pleasure all the way down to his toes, like Derek’s cock has scratched some itch deep inside him. The muscles in his hole flutter around Derek’s cock, squeezing around his length to drag him in. 

_ “Fuck-” _ Derek gasps, his hand coming up to cup one of Stiles’ pecs. His nipples are puffy, sensitive as his chest prepares for nursing the pups. Derek flicks his finger over one nipple and Stiles cries out, burying his face in the pillow as he spasms around Derek’s dick. His body feels like a live electric wire, jumping around on the ground. 

He clutches the sheets as Derek slowly starts to move in him. It’s quiet except for their breathing, and Derek keeps his movements slow, out of a sense of safety, Stiles supposes, but no less impactful each time he slides over Stiles’ prostate. Stiles is impossibly hard again, his cock dribbling onto the sheets with whatever cum he has left as waves of pleasure reverberate through him, centered around Derek’s cock and the way Derek is squeezing at his nipples. He’s fairly sure he’s babbling nonsense - he never could keep his mouth shut - but Derek’s lips are by his ear, whispering soothing words and pressing kisses there. 

Soon, though, even Derek can’t maintain the comments, lost in his own pleasure. He pants against Stiles’ ear, his hand squeezing into Stiles’ hip. His knot begins to grow, stretching Stiles’ rim wide in a way that makes Stiles cry out, muffled by the pillow. 

Derek’s knot catches at last, and he can feel Derek stiffen behind him, sinking his teeth into the old mating mark on his neck as he fills Stiles up. Stiles shudders, warmth and pleasure radiating through him at pleasing his Alpha. He comes one last time, his cock barely able to spurt anything, completely spent. 

When he feels Derek stir behind him, pressing kisses to his neck and up under his ear, Stiles turns his head slightly to catch Derek’s lips with his instead. “Think I’m going to take a nap, Der.” 

Derek gives him a rueful smile. “Go ahead, baby. I’ve got you.” 

Stiles snuggles back, finding the most comfortable position he can to be hanging off his Alpha’s knot, and then the pregnancy exhaustion overtakes him and he falls asleep just like that. 


	6. Somnophilia again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some domestic fluff/smut from Stiles' final month of pregnancy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As in the first fic, Derek and Stiles are still playing around with consensual somnophilia. So it's consensual, but more of a test.

“Hey, babe, look at your man.”

Derek glances over to wear Stiles is ensconced on the couch, balancing a plate of fresh cut veggies on his large stomach, and snorts. 

Stiles winks at him. “I know, I know, this is the height of sexy right now.” He grabs a mini carrot from the plate, dips it in some of the hummus on the side table, and crunches adorably. 

Considering his swollen belly and chest, and the sweet, sweet smell of his pregnancy, Derek has a hard time disagreeing. His wolf has never been so viscerally  _ smug. _

In answer, he leans over to press a kiss on Stiles’ cheek, which immediately heats below his lips. The plate tips, one of the twins’ kicking distending Stiles’ belly, but Derek rescues it before anything can fall away. 

“My hero,” Stiles murmurs, fluttering his eyelashes because fuck, he has Derek wrapped around his finger and he knows it. “C’mere, give your omega some sugar. It’s the very least you can do for me.” 

They’re nearing the end of Stiles’ pregnancy, thank god, Derek thinks as he scoots closer to his mate, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and pressing their lips together. Less than a month, now, and with twins, that could really be any time. Stiles has been  _ very _ vocal about how ready he is to get this done with, and Derek wants for nothing but his mate to be happy and healthy, and for their kids to be here. 

The kiss is sweet despite the spice of garlic and roasted red peppers from the hummus, and it has Stiles sighing somewhat dreamily up at him when he’s done. And then one of the twins kicks again, and Stiles groans, rubbing over his stomach. “Are werewolf babies always this  _ active?” _

“Between my werewolf genes and your Stilinski ones, your kidneys never stood a chance, baby.” Derek laughs when Stiles sticks his tongue out at him, and slides them into another kiss, just like that. 

“Dude, if you’re going to make it all hormonal in here at least have the decency to open a window,” Jackson complains, walking through the pack living room and rolling one of the large windows open. 

_ “Someone’s _ hormonal,” Stiles murmurs against Derek’s neck with a little snort, earning Jackson’s flouncing growl as the wolf flops himself into one of the arm chairs and co-opts the TV remote. Indeed, Jackson’s ripe with unsatisfied omega heat scent, caught unexpectedly in his cycle when his mate Ethan is out of town on business. 

Derek can smell annoyance rising in his own mate, and the last thing the house needs right now is two riled omegas going at each other like Jackson and Stiles are wont to do. He grabs the plate of veggies and hummus in one hand, and holds out his other for Stiles. “C’mon, let’s go finish in our bedroom. I can give you a foot massage…” 

Stiles rolls his eyes a little but lets himself be pulled off the couch. “I know what you’re doing, Mr. Conflict-Avoidant.” 

He keeps his hand firmly gripped in Stiles’ as they pad up the stairs to their room. “Only when it’s my omega who’s going to start the conflict.” 

“But fighting with Jackson is so  _ fun.” _ Stiles flashes the most devious, appealing grin that makes Derek want to press him against the wall right then and there. 

“I  _ heard _ that, Stilinski,” Jackson calls from downstairs, the scent of annoyed omega increasing. 

“Come on, you know you get just as cranky before your heats,” Derek reasons as he opens their bedroom door. He sets the food on the bedside table and fluffs the pillows up for Stiles to lean against, all while Stiles watches, hand rubbing absently over his belly, eyes looking soft. 

“What?” Derek asks defensively as he leads Stiles to the bed to sit down. 

Stiles looks up at him, eyes looking bright and a little wet. “Oh nothing. Just you know, the fact that you’re going to be the best dad ever, if you take care of  _ me _ this well.”

Humbled, Derek ducks his head, his heart galloping in his chest. In reality, he has no idea if he’ll be any good at it, but maybe that’s what mates are for, recognizing that in their partner when they can’t in themselves. Derek knows that Stiles sure as hell is going to be an amazing dad. He helps Stiles get settled in with the food, then moves to the end of the bed and picks up one of Stiles’ swollen feet. 

The type of satisfaction smell rolling off of Stiles as he rubs the kinks of out his foot isn’t one of arousal, but it turns Derek on just the same. Or perhaps, it turns Derek on to know exactly how much he’s satisfying his mate. Either way, he has to adjust himself in his pants a couple of times as he works on Stiles’ feet. From Stiles’ sly glance, he’s sure he’s not actually being subtle. 

“You want we should fuck?” Stiles asks, quirking a brow, and Derek snorts. 

“I’m good, baby. You look tired.” 

Indeed, Stiles’ eyes are drooping. “Mhmm. Well. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Derek leans over, kissing Stiles’ ankle. “Thank you for your sacrifices.” 

Stiles laughs outright, setting his clean plate aside and patting the bed next to him. “Come spoon me until I fall asleep?”

As if Derek could ever deny his mate anything. 

It takes some readjustment, but then Stiles is all arranged in the pillows, and Derek’s behind him, the press of his half-hard dick awkward until Stiles reaches around to grab his hip and press him close to stop his wiggling. Huffing out a little breath, Derek wraps his arms around his mate, letting his lips come to rest near Stiles’ mating mark. 

He’s not expecting to fall asleep himself, but he does, Stiles’ scent of contentment lulling him into dreams. He hasn’t been sleeping well lately, plagued with anxiety nightmares about the delivery, and the twins, and Stiles. But for this nap he’s pleasantly calm. When REM hits, he and Stiles are just walking along the lake shore together, Stiles smiling over at him as if he hung the moon. Pride and happiness wells in his chest. 

It morphs, as dreams do, into their bed in the cabin. Maybe because he’d fallen asleep partially aroused. Maybe because he’s never able to resist Stiles, even in sleep. Whatever the reason, he’s immersed, now, in Stiles, in his aroused scent. He laps at Stiles’ hole, loving the taste of his slick; it’s never enough, he can never get enough. He’s pretty sure he could eat Stiles out for longer than Stiles could actually stand, he loves it so much. 

Stiles tastes especially good right now, with the ripeness of his pregnancy. Derek sinks in, sighing then growling when Stiles’ slick fills his mouth as the omega spasms around his tongue. He just keeps going, making Stiles come again and again in that blurry way dreams do, even as he ruts against the bed to sate his own cock. 

_ “Alpha-” _ Stiles breathes out above him, echoey in his sleep. The way Stiles says it makes Derek feel warm from the inside out. To be needed in the most intimate way by his partner. He never thought he’d be here, or get to experience these things with someone.

He could cum like this, rutting against the sheets, so he’s happily shocked when his cock is suddenly surrounded by his omega’s hot, wet channel. It’s a little jarring because he’d just been kneeling between Stiles’ legs so he’s not quite sure how he got here, but then it feels too good to care. He groans, thrusting into that tight heat on instinct.  


It’s only when Stiles cries out, reaching back to grip at Derek’s hair, that Derek shocks awake and realizes he actually  _ is _ sunk deep inside Stiles. He’s still spooning behind Stiles, but somehow, in his sleep, he must have pulled down his pants and Stiles’ and-

“Ah, there you are, honey. Glad you could join us.” Derek has a split second to note that Stiles’ lips are tilting up in amusement right before he pulls Derek down by his hair for a hot kiss. 

“Did I- I didn’t-” stutters Derek, trying to hold still inside Stiles when every instinct is telling him to claim his mate. 

_ “You _ didn’t.  _ I  _ did.” Stiles grins up at him wickedly, then rolls his hips back and squeezes around Derek’s cock. “You’re good. Oh,  _ fuck, _ you’re good.” He pauses, meeting Derek’s eyes over his shoulder. “You okay with this, too?” 

When they’d first played around with it, they’d found Stiles didn’t like being woken up to sex, but they hadn’t ruled it out for Derek. He takes a second to run a self-assessment, then leans in to kiss Stiles again. “I’m good with it if you are, baby.” 

“Then  _ fuck me, _ Alpha.” Stiles bites at his lip as he pushes his hips impatiently again. 

“Gladly.” Gripping Stiles’ hip, Derek thrusts in, sets a pace that has Stiles crying out with every stroke. 

Stiles’ smell surrounds him, billowing up to blanket Derek in eau d’ satisfied mate. He latches onto Stiles’ mate mark, renewing his claim there as he sinks himself again and again in Stiles’ sweet hole. He can’t help but shudder at every groan that falls from Stiles’ lips, proof of his arousal, proof that he’s pleasing his mate. 

Squeezing his eyes against cumming, he pauses his hips, his breath ragged. “Knot?” 

After a moment’s hesitation, Stiles groans. “No. I have to pee again.” 

Derek’s lips tip up, though he knows not to laugh at his mate. They haven’t been able to knot for a while now for that very reason. Instead, he wraps one hand around Stiles’ cock and moves to shallow thrusts that won’t catch his growing knot. Stiles’ hand clutches at the sheets as he cries out, coming all over Derek’s fist, shuddering through it and rippling all around Derek’s cock. 

With his own groan, Derek spills in his mate, his orgasm pulsing through him. He thunks his forehead against the back of Stiles’ head, catching his breath, whispering praise and how much he loves his mate. 

After a few minutes, Stiles squirms. “I love you too, babe, but I really need to pee now.” 

Derek snorts, pulling out and grabbing a tissue to wipe the worst of his cum away. He rolls out his side of the bed and comes around to help a struggling Stiles get upright, ignoring his mate’s disgruntled mutters at the fact that he can’t move himself. 

He’s stripping the sheets when he hears Stiles’ voice from the bathroom and his heart leaps in his throat. “Uh, Der?” 

The panic and uncertainty in Stiles’ words has Derek racing to their master bath. “What’s wrong-” 

Stiles is gripping the bathroom counter, one hand rubbing over his stomach, blowing out a breath, and Derek rushes to his side. “I think-” he gasps, straightening a little, some of the pain relieving from his face. “I think the twins are ready to enter, stage right.” 

Panic floods Derek, and he pulls back, looking around frantically to figure out his first action step. 

“Babe. Alpha.  _ Derek.” _

Finally Stiles gets his attention, and he’s nodding toward the shower. “We have a little bit. Deaton said first pregnancies -  _ last _ pregnancy by the way - take a bit of time. And I’m not going to see Deaton with your cum in my ass, I’m sorry.” 

Somehow, the absurdity of the statement and Stiles’ matter of fact delivery do the work to pull Derek out of his panic, and he laughs, just a little. “Right. Right, I’ll help you.” 

Once Derek gets close, though, Stiles pulls him in for a side hug and brushes their lips together. “I am feeling very oddly zen right now, might be the orgasm. We’re going to be okay, Der.” 

Derek rests his forehead against Stiles’, breathing with him for a moment. “Let’s do this, then.” 

Stiles flashes him a grin, the one that Derek hasn’t been able to resist since that first night. The one that can lead him to hell and back without complaint. The one he hopes their kids inherit. "Let's do this."   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like to write labor fics, so just know that Stiles comes through just great, the babies are healthy. They're twin girls, and they name them Olive Claudia Stilinski-Hale and Hazel Talia Stilinski-Hale.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you and yours are healthy and safe and can stay that way. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. <3


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